


Unspoken Rituals

by Chi_chi9



Series: Cookies and Donuts [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angry Sex, Because we like that shit, Butt Plugs, Hair-pulling, It's a make out session basically, It's just that I need to write their backstory and I'm lazy, M/M, Porn With Plot, Rival Sex, Unsafe Sex, or kind of, rival gangs, take you holy water out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:47:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29156838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chi_chi9/pseuds/Chi_chi9
Summary: There’s this ritual they had not agreed on that kept on happening nevertheless. And that is that when C isangry, he will always meet D in his road, whether he likes it or not.In fact, it had happened so many times already, that he had started suspecting that D had spies in his gangand knew exactly when he was so angry that he’d like to break something. Events such as those wereactually quite rare for a person such a C, which always maintained his cool demeanour even in difficultsituations.Given this, it was no surprise then when that night he found the pink haired guy in his steps, his familiarfigure standing just in front of the club he was usual to visit from time to time.Whatever, or whoever destiny was, it really seemed to be having fun in playing this sick game with them.And only for them, it seemed.
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s)
Series: Cookies and Donuts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2140293





	Unspoken Rituals

**Author's Note:**

> Well hello.  
> This is an orginal work of mine so I do not expect people to even read it (lol), but maybe someone may ease their boredom with it.  
> I started writing this while I was working on my second Color Rush fic just to indulge into writing some porn, and those two Ocs of mine were just perfect for it. They still need names so I used some initials for them, I hope it won't bother ya all and if it does I'm sorry.
> 
> I'll make a series for this just to keep things in order, you know me, I like stuff to be organized and tidy. But also in case I write something more for them.
> 
> ANYWAYS HAVE FUN READING AND PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ON ANY OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA.

There’s this ritual they had not agreed on that kept on happening nevertheless. And that is that when C is angry, he will always meet D in his road, whether he likes it or not.

In fact, it had happened so many times already, that he had started suspecting that D had spies in his gang and knew exactly when he was so angry that he’d like to break something. Events such as those were actually quite rare for a person such a C, which always maintained his cool demeanour even in difficult situations.

Given this, it was no surprise then when that night he found the pink haired guy in his steps, his familiar figure standing just in front of the club he was usual to visit from time to time.

Whatever, or whoever destiny was, it really seemed to be having fun in playing this sick game with them. And only for them, it seemed.

D was leaning on the club’s doorsteps, smoking his cigarette uncaring of everything, a cunning smile on his lips as usual. As C approached the steps with his bodyguards, their eyes eventually met, and the other’s lips parted to let a trail of smoke out, his smile now replaced by a scoff.

When did this sick relationship of theirs start?

C couldn’t remember.

When he had first seen D, he had thought that he looked like a clown. Hot pink hair one could spot from a km away, fancy shoes and a suit in burgundy, button up with the strangest prints on them, golden rings and earrings.

He looked like a teen hooligan with no experience whatsoever. Only with time he had found out that he was as sick as every gangster, and that most of his suits were as fancy, if not even limited collections.

Furthermore, D was the left hand of the leader of another gang. Of course one couldn’t expect him to be such, probably due to the way he stand out way too much with that hair of his. Even C wouldn’t blame anyone who would think that he was a simple minion.

D seemed to be both bothered and uncaring at that though. At times he’d slice the one’s - who had dared call him a minion- throat, others he would just laugh at it. It was not like his laughing wouldn’t scare the interlocutor shitless though. Most people disappeared after finding out his reputation, probably thinking it to be wiser to disappear from his road in case the bitch remembered what they had said.

As for his reputation, well.

Every gangster killed, raped and did all sort of sick stuff for money and matters that concerned revenge and honour, but he was an exceptional case. Not only did he kill, but he killed many and in a way that would make one’s skin crawl.

If you were to find a dismembered body in a dumpster next to your house, you could say with certainty that it was D’s doing. In most cases this happened when someone from a different gang had done something they shouldn’t, but he wouldn’t be surprised if the other was killing for pleasure too.

He wouldn’t get caught even if that were to be true, being under his boss protection and higher ups in ranks.

C later found out that not only was he clearly out of his mind, but also a big ass attention whore.

As it was predictable, given his way of dressing, the way he’d paint his hair – in that horrendous pink- and his terrible actions, D loved to hear his name roll on people’s tongues, especially when it was pronounced in fear and respect. Even though C would bet that he was more pleased by the first option that the second one.

Because fear, after all, gives you power over people.

He had the behaviour of a petulant child mixed with one of a sulky bossy woman, but he was no boss though. For a fact, C was still wondering when the time he would snap and kill the current boss of the gang would come, if it ever will.

The biggest reason why he was so higher up in ranks was probably because his leader wanted to keep him as his friend rather than an enemy, but the fact that he was merely the left hand and not the right one spoke clearly: he was not to be trusted, only to be kept under a watching eye.

As for his past, he’d never get himself tangled in trying to find out who could’ve put such a sick freak in this world. He was as curious as everyone who had ever heard his name, but wouldn’t risk having D stick to his ass more than necessary. He really had stuck to him like hot glue already.

All these thoughts travelled in his mind as he stared deeply into those brown eyes of his. Due to the lighting coming from the club, his pupils had a reddish glow in them, and with his clothes, he looked like an extravagant creature.

A tacky fur coat with a leopard print was laying on his shoulders, his torso covered in a silk burgundy button-up, which was unbuttoned far enough to show his collarbone and neck, adorned in a heavy golden chain. His muscular legs were covered in some kind of tight leather pants, as shiny as his pointy ankle boots. Rings were on his fingers, shining with every move the other made to bring the - now half smoked- cigarette to his mouth.

Even though C was accustomed to his eccentric appearance by now, the gangster still grimaced as he approached, his expression welcomed by the other with an amused smile.

“Well well.”

The pink haired one then commented in a sarcastic tone, while smashing the cigarette stub with his heel.

“Look who we have here.”

C scoffed in response.

Since anger was still boiling in his stomach from the discussion he had had with his fiancé before, he would’ve liked to immediately smash his head to the floor if he could. But D’s entire existence only meant trouble, so he simply ignored him as he passed through the entrance, seeing it wiser to let it go. For now, at least.

Only that were it that easy to get rid of D, he wouldn’t be ankles deep in their, let’s say, difficult relationship.

Hence, being totally unbothered by the two men standing by his sides, the pink haired man followed him inside, even sitting at the counter just next to him, sinking comfortably in his seat.

One of his bodyguards eyed C in a silent question at the other action:

“Should we take action?”

But the gangster leader only shook his head slowly, motioning with his fingers to the bartender instead. With C being an usual customer, he didn’t have to say anything, the man already knew what to serve him.

As a glass of whiskey was put in front of him then, he heard the familiar voice of the other again:

“What’s up handsome?”

As he let his eyes travel to his figure, he saw that he had now lighted another cigarette, and was tapping the dust on the ashtray, his eyes cast down and pensive.

D was handsome in his own way.

C didn’t think it was bad of him to think as such, but felt disgusted at the thought nevertheless. Getting entangled with the other only meant trouble. He knew it more than anyone, but still got trapped in his web, even if just in little percentage.

“Mind your business.”

Hissed one of his men at his silence. That didn’t seem to bother - or stop- D, instead, he even had the audacity to scoff as he bought the cigarette to his mouth again.

How did he have such shiny white teeth when he smoked so much?

Really, that men was a mystery.

“Leave us.”

C then ordered the two, knowing too well how that night was supposed to end, no matter his or D or his body guard’s struggle against fate.

The men simply bowed their head at the command, seemingly disappearing in some part of the building, but C knew they were still close enough to protect him in case of trouble.

Seeing that he was getting his way easily that night, D then smiled, his pointy canines showing.

“Finally! I fucking hate those two.”

Grabbing his colourful drink – pretty much in contrast with the other’s glass of whiskey – he then added in a honeyed voice:

“They really thin my patience down. Teach them well or don’t blame me when I’ll slice their necks.”

C looked at his face with a menacing glare, but the other’s wicked smile just widened, and he let his thumb trace his own neck as if to mimic the action of “slicing”.

“Mind your tone.”

Hissed C then, his face calm, but his eyes dark with rage.

His mood was already terrible that night, and now this bitch was even trying to taunt his reputation and his ways? He wouldn’t let him.

“Aww.”

The sound left D’s mouth with a trail of smoke, an amused expression adorning his face. Knowing his sick mind, C would bet that he was getting hard already. Disgusting, really.

“So it’s one of those nights for my sweetheart.”

Stated the pink haired one, tapping another quantity of dust on the ash tray.

At the silence from the other part, he then continued:

“I already knew when I’ve seen you approach with that sexy expression of yours. I can smell your anger from miles away.”

What was he, a dog?

C maintained his poker face even when D put the stress on the word “sexy”, secretly cringing. He was now at a point of rage where he simply wanted to smash the first thing handy - in that case, the other’s face would just do the trick - and let it boil down that way.

But that was what D wanted, after all. Which was precisely the reason why he kept on pushing him to the edge, in hope that he’ll eventually fall in a cold pitch of anger.

Which could happen, eventually.

C sipped his whiskey again, his glance traveling in front of him, now fixed on the shiny bottles of liquor. His long wavy hair was tied up in a bun, only a few strands falling free and contouring his face. On his body was a beautiful black suit, coat long and matte black pointy shoes.

Both his and D s tattoos were covered by the layers of clothing, which made them less recognizable, if not only to the people who knew their faces. Or at least, that would’ve been the case if it wasn’t for the other’s shiny hair. C couldn’t help but scoff at the thought of the other’s head, as pink as a Carioca highlighter.

Maybe that night would end up differently if he simply ignored him.

“Was it your fiancé?”

Interrupted the hooligan once again then, seemingly not discouraged by the fact that he was giving him only silence by his part.

C grimaced at the world, which rev up the other, who now leaned on the counter with an amused smile to try and look at his eyes, still cast away.

“Was it?”

Seriously, he was going to hurt him so bad if he didn’t shut up.

This hooligan thought he had control over him? He’d better learn his place.

Leaving all his resolutions to just ignore the other one aside, C eyed him again and answered:

“Want me to cut that tongue of yours? Or will you shut up? Mh?”

But D only made an excited cry at that, continuing:

“Aw, you’re going to make me hard if you use that sexy tone of yours again.”

In which “sexy” probably referred to the homicidal undertone of his affirmation. C’s eyes stayed on his, his expression cold as he gripped the glass he was holding with force. With his usual trademark smile, D leaned his jaw on his hand, and rebutted in a velvety voice:

“Make me shut up.”

Which only further contributed to the other’s rage at that moment. He didn’t have to say it twice. With a swift move, C’s hand grabbed the other’s neck before he could react, and he hissed:

“Stand up. Now.”

D laughed lowly at that, a sigh escaping his lips as the hand on his neck gripped it with force, in a menace. Luckily for them the place was quite empty that night, the only people populating the building minding their own business, not wanting to have anything to do with both of them.

Who could blame them, really.

As much as he wanted to keep on annoying the other, D decided it would be wiser to quickly get to the part he loved about their encounters. In a second, he sprung on his feet, a cry escaping his lips when the hand left his skin, his mouth a pout.

“And now?”

The pink haired one challenged, his hands on his pockets.

“Now you keep on walking, if you don’t want to take it in front of every one else.”

Actually, D had no problem in doing that, but he smiled again nevertheless.

Picking his cigarette package and lighter from the counter, he mindlessly walked away, getting out of the building. People were eyeing them secretly, and he knew that. As the door opened in front of him, his face was hit by a gust of cold wind, and his breath formed little clouds ad he exhaled. C wouldn’t follow him immediately, and he knew that.

But he eventually would.

It was one thing for a rumour such as “they had a fight and that bastard D left” to spread, another if people went around telling that they had left the club together. The pink haired one would kill whoever dared talk about them nevertheless, but he was no Flash, he couldn’t control how fast the news would reach his boss.

Looking at the night sky, he walked around the building in a slow pace, his senses still active in case he had to worry about some suicidal minions trying to get back at him for stuff he didn’t even remember. His heart was throbbing in anticipation, his body shivering as he imagined the other fucking him with rage. He had been lucky in meeting him that night, and he wouldn’t let it go to waste.

In a matter of minutes, he had reached the back of the building, the alley dark and silent, his steps the only noise that could be heard.

It stank in there, but they had fucked in worse places.

As he reached for his cigarette package to shorten the wait, he felt himself getting harder and harder in his pants. He asked himself what would C do to him that night, if he was finally going to wreck him totally. The thought of him cutting his stomach open made his legs wobbly, and a scoff escaped his mouth just as the noise of steps reached his ears, interrupting his dirty thoughts.

He didn’t have to check. He would recognize his cologne in between many others, but it was mostly due to the way he ever so slightly dragged his left leg when walking. The hooligan had always wondered what had happened to it, but he knew better than asking inconvenient questions.

Had he been hurt in the past?

D had seen his naked torso more than once, taking in all the scars he could see, marking their position in his head. C was older, hence it was only natural that he has seen more than he had. Probably had gone through more betrayals too, seeing how he behaved. The pink haired one had no concept of companionship or love, the only thing he knew to be similar would be the way C didn’t simply slit his throat open when they crossed roads, but fucked him senseless and then left him in his own cum. Was that out of courtesy, or was that because he didn’t want to attract unnecessary trouble with the rival gang? D would bet in favour of the second option, but appreciated that he could get what he wanted due to his precious position nevertheless.

He didn’t turn to look at the other’s face as the step stopped right behind him, instead, he waited patiently giving him his back, until a hand reached for his nape and dragged him heavily on the closest wall. With a loud BAM, his body collided with the stone wall, reeking of God only knew what. A throaty laugh left his lips at that, but he easily flipped over to grab at the other’s shoulders, getting his strong thighs on both sides of the other’s ones.

“Won’t ye give me a kiss tonight? Mh?”

He dared, his voice mocking. C easily grabbed his jaw harshly at that, hissing in a low voice:

“Turn around.”

D didn’t move, but even tightened his grip on his shoulders, waiting for the other to slam him in whatever position he wanted him to be by himself. Which was what C did in the end.

With a swift move, he rolled the other over, making sure to partially smash his face on the wall, savouring the low grunt that the other made at that.

“Careful not to ruin me pretty face.”

Whined the pink haired one then, sulking, but feeling a rush of adrenaline in his stomach as he heard the noise of the leader’s belt being unfastened, hungry to feel him closer. Not undressing himself yet though, C unfastened his belt and then got himself busy with the younger one’s pants, dragging them low to free his butt. The pink haired one didn’t complain, gladly leaning on the wall so that his buttocks opened slightly. C’s hands stopped fast enough though, and D laughed as he soon realized the motivation.

Ah, it was the butt plug.

The hooligan would bet that the leader had seen one of those before, but he was simply taken aback because he wasn’t expecting him to be wearing it.

“Wouldn’t want you getting tired in getting me ready.”

He explained in a velvety voice, cursing in his head that he couldn’t see the other’s expression at the blunt exclamation. At his surprise though, C laughed too, and simply answered:

“Really. What a whore.”

Whispering the last part in his ear. That’s how D knew that the other was about to burst from anger. No sarcastic rebuttals, only sharp irony cutting right through his entrails. He couldn’t blame his knees for getting all wobbly.

“Aye I am.”

Confirmed the pink haired one, shameless. They had known each other long enough for him not to take remarks such as that to heart.

“Then get inside me quickly. Won’t you?”

He challenged again then, a soft moan escaping his lips as C removed the plug slowly, throwing it on the road soon after.

But the gangster didn’t comply to his request, instead roughly inserting two fingers inside him. D moaned loudly, feeling the digits twisting inside him to search for his sweet spot.

“You’re really wet”

Breathed out C, moving his leg in between the other’s ones. Raising his knee, he reached for his perineum, brushing it over the leather pants.

The fingers started moving inside and out in a quick pace in the meanwhile. At times, C would bend them, getting loud cries out of the other while hitting his G spot perfectly. D only clenched his hands in fists at the movement, gladly moving by himself to fuck the fingers deeper and deeper, still hungry for the real thing.

The older one moved closer and grabbed his hair with his free hand, harshly jerking the younger’s face up, his neck bare for him to bite.

“Ah fuck.”

Exclaimed the hooligan, letting a cry out of his lips as a sharp bite was placed on the curve of his neck.

Cursing again, D reached behind to grab at the other’s thigh, gripping it with force as the leader twisted his fingers skilfully as he grasped at his hair. C’s tongue then traced his neck, reaching for his ear and suckling hungrily at his lobule, pulling at his gold earring with his teeth.

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

Repeated the hooligan, his voice strained.

“What?”

Called the velvety voice behind him, the breath on his ear sending sharp chills over D’s spine. The pink haired one let a throaty laugh out, then answered:

“You’re so good at this.”

Adding:

“Do you do this to your fiancé too or do you leave her starving?”

A sharp pull at his hair. Good. That’s his signal.

“Maybe that’s why she’s so angry at you.”

He sarcastically added. The hand on his hair quickly reached for his neck, slamming his face to the wall.

“Mind your tongue.”

“My tongue?”

Asked the other sheepishly at the remark.

“Let me put it to use, won’t you?”

He hummed in a low voice.

The fingers inside him bent sharply, almost scratching at the skin. D’s moans cracked to be replaced by a cry, his eyes closing sharply. In no time, the other found his sweet spot again, and started pressing there with force.

The pink haired one cried loudly again, his legs shaking violently. His vision went black as pleasure filled his stomach, the hand gripping at the other’s thigh almost tearing the fabric of his pants.

D let himself moan loudly against the wall as he came not long after, tiredness getting control of his body little by little. It was not enough for him to collapse though, not even enough to satiate his anger. C extracted his fingers slowly then, letting the other rest onto the wall while he un buttoned his pants.

Hearing the noise of the fabric against the skin as the pants were being pushed past his length, D slowly turned himself so that he was now facing C, his eyes both wicked and glossy from pleasure. Glancing straight at the other, he raised his ringed hand and reached for his hard member, a daring hum leaving his lips.

“How wicked. You really like to hear me cry, hm? ”

D commented ironically, but before C could crush him on the wall again, he quickly got on his knees with a smile.

He had said he would put his mouth to use. So he’ll just do that.

Parting his lips, he let the length slip inside effortlessly, a salty flavour now on his tongue. C grabbed his hair again at the gesture, but didn’t stop him, sighing in pleasure instead.

Without parting his eyes from the ones of the other, the pink haired one twisted his tongue skilfully on his dick, then started sucking at it hungrily, but painfully slowly. His hands were quick to reach for the other’s pelvis, clinging to his hips in search for stability as he dragged his mouth up and down his length.

C sighed again in pleasure, and the other felt content when seeing his pupils enlarge, his eyes darker than black.

That smug bastard really knew what he liked. As the other did for him too.

At least this wicked relationship they had going on benefitted them both. D would get his rough sex, while he would get to fuck someone senseless without feeling guilty. It wasn’t as if he didn’t want to smash his face every time he saw him anyway. He didn’t have to lie about disliking him, or to feign hate, those feelings were as real as the pleasure he felt at that moment. And were reciprocated as well.

As foolish as D seemed with his childish behaviour, he was still a cold blooded killer, and he knew better than to develop inconvenient feelings for him.

Though one could argue that they had by now become each other’s stress relief method.

As C’s thoughts travelled, D got his length deep into his throat, snapping him back to reality. The leader moaned loudly at that, his body shivering as he harshly pulled at the other’s hair, pushing himself even closer to his face. Feeling like he would choke soon because of it, D grabbed the other’s testicles in his hand, and C flinched away a bit at the sensation, just like he had thought he would.

Hence, taking advantage of his body reaction, the pink haired one quickly freed himself of the intruding member in his mouth, grabbing it with his hand instead. As D stared jerking him off, C’s eyes fixed on the little trail of saliva that had dropped from the other’s mouth, his plump pink lips now moist.

They rarely kissed. Their encounters were not about passion in the first place, but more of a way to vent pent up rage and stress.

But that night C felt possessed. Maybe his anger was now turning in feelings he himself didn’t understand, like the immediate want for closeness with the other.

Hence he didn’t think it through as his hand grabbed D’s jaw, and he didn’t even try stopping his body as it moved on his own, leaning in to hungrily kiss those plump lips. Something stung at his heart then; he didn’t know if it was either for shame or fear that he was getting attached, but he knew that the feeling persisted even as the other kissed him back with the same amount of lust, raising from his spot to cling harshly at his shoulders.

Shocked, but masking it effortlessly, C pressed D closer and closer nevertheless, nibbling at the his lips until he tasted blood on his tongue.

He had expected him to ridicule him, to sarcastically rebuke, but maybe he was simply mixing what he thought of himself at the present moment with his perception of D’s character.

Yes, he felt ridiculous.

But maybe he could yield to this madness for just a bit more, before turning back to anger. D’s tongue danced with his, and he tasted the bitter taste of cigarettes getting mixed up with the iron flavour from before, then a salty aftertaste, probably from his own pre-cum. He then moaned a bit at the other’s feathery touch on his palate, his eyes opening slowly to look at his fierce ones, glossy from lust.

And that was what broke the spell.

Shame painfully hit his stomach, and he abruptly flinched away, blinking slowly.

How could he have permitted this to happen?

D smiled simply smiled at his reaction though, humming pensive and then adding in a velvety voice:

“I’m quite a good kisser, am I not?”

He was, but there was no one he’d tell him that. At that moment, the sensation he felt was akin to the one that one would feel when showing his weakness to his long-time nemesis . With an annoyed expression, C then hissed in a low menacing tone:

“Turn around.”

D shockingly complied without adding anything else, but the smug smile from before stayed on his lips even as he was turned, putting his hands on the wall. As C positioned himself behind him, he even bent toward so that he would slip in more easily, a grunt getting mixed with a moan when he felt the other getting inside him.

“Finally.”

He breathed out, jerking his head behind and leaning on the other’s shoulder, swallowing his dick deeper thanks to the movement. D heard the low groan that escaped the other’s lips, and he happily let him slid his hands around his body, so that he could keep him steady as they fucked.

C didn’t bother going slowly at first, immediately smashing himself inside the other in a hurry and in heated need, making the hooligan moan with every well settled hit. He felt quite comfortable as he leaned on the other’s shoulder too, the tacky fur brushing his face and serving as a pillow.

D let his hand find C’s hair – now that he was so close – and pulled at it, totally destroying the neat bun the other had so that he could grip it easily.

When C finally hit his bundle of nerves, D saw stars on the black night sky, kind of taking the place of the real deal, which were hidden due to light pollution.

“Ah fuck”

He breathed out, then moved his hips in a circular motion on the other’s ones, making a trail of moans leave his lips.

D would’ve liked to look at his eyes in that moment. He always loved seeing the control in them slip away as he took control of their fucking, rocking his hips skilfully.

“Stay still.”

C managed to say as the other squeezed his cock through tensing his muscles, then moaning loudly at the newfound sensation.

D hummed velvety, meeting the other’s movements in a perfect dance.

“Make me.”

He again challenged in his usual tone, mocking.

C took a sharp inhale on his fur at that, and he then harshly gripped the other’s pelvis with his hands, starting to rock his hips painfully slow, but hitting with strength.

He knew how to drive the other crazy too. Only that D wouldn’t get angry as him when he took control, because this roughness was exactly what he wanted.

It was no surprise then to hear his throaty laugh at the change of pace, soon followed by cries at every hit on his sweet spot. Curses rolled on their tongues, both feeling closer and closer to their climax as time went on.

D was the first to come, a sweet moan leaving his lips as he rode his orgasm, still moving skilfully to get more of that sweet fullness inside himself. C followed him soon after, uncaring as he came inside the other, savouring his grunts at the sensation of getting filled of the warm liquid. As his legs shook slightly, he reached with a hand on the wall to keep himself steady, letting the other lean on it by himself, but not disconnecting their bodies yet as he caught his breath.

Usually there would be a bed to lean on after they had finished. And for a while they’ll stay silent, simply breathing in and out. D would often light himself a cigarette, then one for him, which he would accept gladly as he would be too tired to argue.

But they had fucked in worse places too, so the accommodation for that night didn’t scare them.

C slowly got himself out, observing the trail of semen that slipped away from the other’s anus at the motion, a strand connecting his dick and it for a little before it broke, eventually dropping on the other’s leader pants.

D sighed softly, then added in a tired voice:

“Why did you throw the plug away, jeez. ”

C scoffed, taking his silk handkerchief out to clean himself, then slipping back inside his pants.

“I would’ve liked to keep you inside myself for a little more.”

D continued, whining.

“I fricking hate you.”

Hissed the other then, grabbing his cigarette package and fancy lighter from his pocket, to soon after light himself one. D smiled at the phrase, so happily that in fact, one could believe that he had said him that he loved him instead.

The hooligan then turned as he got his leather pants up, tidying himself up as If nothing had happened.

“Whatever.”

He begin, his voice now back to his mocking and hateful tone.

“ ’Twas nice as usual sweetheart.”

C scoffed, a cloud of smoke leaving his mouth as he checked the time on his golden watch. Seeing that he had gotten back to ignoring him, the pink haired one leaned in with a serious expression, locking their eyes again.

“I would watch me back If I were you though.”

That wasn’t a menace by his part, but what people like them would call a “nice” warning. D probably knew that some kind of trouble was coming to the city, but C wouldn’t ask more, as he wouldn’t tell if not in exchange for something. He’d hate to be indebted to that freak. Calmly, he eyed the other one final time before turning on his heels and leaving the hallway, getting slowly swallowed by the darkness.

D leaned on the wall on his back in the meanwhile, observing the figure as it got away, until he couldn’t see it anymore, then glancing up at the sky again.

Trouble was coming, but he couldn’t help but hope it wouldn’t bite the other on his back.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again. It's nice seeing you hehe  
> Hope there weren't as many typos in the text, unfortunately english is not my first language.
> 
> Hope you had a nice stay and wish you all the best!


End file.
